


I don’t pretend to know

by Age_ofthe_aquarius



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, F/M, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15171596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Age_ofthe_aquarius/pseuds/Age_ofthe_aquarius
Summary: Alex has been in the foster system since he was a child. He's been all over the United States in his youth, and can never seem to find a home where he fits in. But one day when he's dropped off at the Washington's, his whole life changes. He makes friends, forms familial bonds, and possibly love. Can he finally be happy?





	1. Ch. 1: Alex

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story ever, so feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

   Every home had been the same. A wife, a husband, a daughter or a son, sometimes both. Life droned on endlessly, dull as ever. I rarely smiled these days. The last time I smiled was when I got into a Twitter argument with Donald Trump about the black lives matter movement. But even that joy was fleeting. Now here I am sitting in the back of a social workers car in some kind of deep inner monologue shit. "Alex?" Miss Livingston's voice calls, cutting through my introspection like a knife.  
     "Hmm?" I hear my self reply, as I turn my head to peer out of the window.  
   "Are you excited to live in New York with all of the great writers?" She asks with the air of a kindergarten teacher.  
     "I guess." I say, punctuating the statement with a noncommittal shrug. I catch a glimpse of Miss Livingston's frown as she turns her head to face me momentarily, opening her mouth to speak but instead turning back towards the road.  
    "The Washington's are really nice people Alex, really." She says after a beat of somber silence.  
    "I'm sure they are." Is all I say. On account of the silence that ensues the rest of the car ride, she clearly heard the note of sarcasm in my voice. Outside the window the scenery changes. The houses become more ostentatious, and the amount of homeless people on every corner depletes dramatically. I know I am out of the 'hood' and into the suburbs. I roll my eyes so hard I'm scared they'll get stuck. Another pretentious rich asshole family that thinks they can throw their weight around because I'm an immigrant. Awesome, wow! The car comes to a halt as we stop in front of an elaborate red brick house-no, fuck a house! This was a mansion!  Have I hit the mother load? I think jokingly. "We're here Alex." Miss Livingston says.  
       "Ok." I reply, sucking in a shaky breath. No matter how sarcastic I seem, I really am nervous. I nearly puke as we trudge up the red brick steps. I try to focus on anything but the people that lie behind the beige door in front of me. I slowly take in my surroundings. The front yard is beautiful. Rose bushes lie on either side of the porch, in full bloom. The grass was green and neatly trimmed. I wonder if they have a gardener. I wonder if he is a minority. I was snapped out of my reverie by the door swinging open. "Hello George!" I hear Miss Livingston greet enthusiastically.  
      "Mary," the man booms, "you're looking well!"  
   "This is Alexander!" She says gesturing over to me. His gaze meets mine momentarily and for a second I'm stunned. This man was not what I expected at all. He was African American and his expression was genuine and warm.  
     " Nice to meet you son." He comments, extending a hand out to me.


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is welcomed into the Washington home

" Nice to meet you son." He comments, extending a hand out to me. Five seconds into meeting him and he is already calling me son? Is he using that to gain some kind of sense of superiority over me? I feel my face flush with irritation until I realize he was waiting for me to shake his hand. I firmly grip his hand and shake it while making direct eye contact.  
    " Nice to meet you too, sir." I spat the last part bitterly. I hear Miss Livingston clear her throat next to me.   
    "Alexander, don't be rude..." She attempts to say discreetly, but Mr. Washington just laughs heartily. I don't know why, but his laugh made me feel warm. It made me remember the way my mother would wrap me in blankets when I passed out reading or when I started shivering from the bitter breeze in our drafty little shack of a home. It reminded me of love. I quickly shake off the feeling and push it far into my mind.  
      "It's quite alright Mary, boy's got quite a handshake there. Shaking hands firmly and eye contact means he wants to be respected, and there is nothing wrong with that." He says with a grin. I eye him warily, feeling something that resembles a smile tugging at my lips. Then suddenly I hear a series of thumps and curses in French coming from the stairwell. I turn towards it and quickly find the cause of all the noise. A brown skinned boy with a frizzy ponytail, lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.   
     "Are you okay?" I ask gingerly. Suddenly the boy shot up as if he did not just tumble down the stairs.   
   "Oui! My name is Gilbert, but I rather be called Lafayette or Laf. Are you Alex? Oh, mon ami you will love it here!" The boy startles me with his sudden outburst of word vomit.  
   "Uhhh... cool. Cool." Is all I can say. Real smooth Hamilton.


	3. C’est moi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets the human puppy known as Lafayette

Real smooth, Hamilton. My awkwardness didn't seem to phase Lafayette one bit. If anything it encouraged him to befriend me.  
"Come Alex, I will show you your bedroom." He says, practically vibrating.  
" Ok...." I reply a bit hesitantly. Suddenly, I find myself being dragged up the stairs and into a room. When I regain my bearings, I glance around the foreign space. The room was unlike anywhere I have ever slept before. The walls were a beautiful mauve color, with matching curtains on the double windows. The bed was giant! It had giant brown duvet and matching pillows. My mouth was probably wide open. I don't deserve a room like this.  
"On account of your face, I take that you like it mon ami!" Laf says with a knowing smile.   
" I-It's beautiful!" I reply  
" Come, come, I want you to see my room." Laf says, gesturing toward a black door. Laf was being so... nice. It's as if he radiates sunshine. I'm terrified that I'm becoming attached already.  
"Bienvenue dans ma chambre!" Laf chimes. I feel stupid as I realize he is speaking French and has been drifting in and out of the language the whole time. I look around the room I notice the pictures on the wall. I see one with a burly looking dude with dark skin and a beanie on next to a lighter skinned kid with curly hair, scattered freckles and glinting braces. He was adorable. Pictures of other friends and family littered the wall, along with a giant French flag banner and a giant American flag banner. His walls were various shades of red white and blue. His bed sheets were even red white and blue. And his big shag rug was...you guessed it: the print of the American flag. It was very....patriotic.  
"Vous avez l'esprit américain" is all I can say.   
" I know!" Laf replays with a beaming smile. I find myself looking at the picture of the two boys again. Lafayette notices.  
"Ah, those are my best friends, Herc and John."   
" Do they go to your high school?" I inquire  
"Oui! I can't wait for you to meet them, they will love you!" He replies, smiling tenderly.  
"Why are you so happy?" I ask.  
" I'm just happy to be alive, my friend! Everyday is a celebration of something!" Laf says. I don't think I'm capable of being so optimistic, but it's infectious. Me and Laf go back down stairs to find Miss Livingston by the front door.  
" Oh, Alex! I was just leaving. You seem to have made a friend." She says, gesturing to Lafayette. I reply with a noncommittal shrug.   
" Alex, you will be fine here. I will call you in a week." Miss Livingston says, scurrying out the front door.  
"Alex," Mr. Washington greets coming out of the kitchen, " my wife Martha is still at work, so you can go get settled in while Gilbert helps me with dinner."   
"Yes, sir." I reply while going up the stairs.  
"And one more thing Alexander!" George calls from the kitchen.   
"Yes sir?" I answer.  
" Call me George, please."  
"Sure thing, George." I say the last part quietly, grinning. Maybe this place isn't so bad after all.


	4. What time is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets Martha and bonds a little more with Lafayette. He also meets some more people...

     After getting out of the shower, I hear the sound of the front door opening and Laf greeting whoever just walked in.

     "Maman!" I hear Laf cry. Ah, that must be Martha. I should go down to meet her. I throw on a pair of grey sweats and a black sweater and head down the stairs.

     "Mmmm, dinner smells great honey." Martha comments, walking into the kitchen.

      She was an elegant looking woman. Her kinky hair was styled into an ethnic bun resting on the back of her neck. Her almond shaped, chocolate eyes shine with pure love for her husband. Those shining eyes also had deep purple bags underneath them that reminded me of my own. I could tell she was in very good shape, even through her pinstriped pantsuit. Her lips were lined with a neutral brown, as if her lipstick had faded throughout the work day. She looked like she was a hard worker. She must have noticed me at some point, because she clears her throat.

       "And who is this young man?" She says with a smile. They sure do smile a lot around here.

      "Alexander, Alexander Hamilton." I say , extending a hand.

       "Oh! George, why didn't you tell me he arrived?" She exclaims, shooting a hard glare at her husband.

        "I didn't want you to fuss about it until necessary, I had it under control." He replies.

        I knew where this was headed. I didn't want to start an argument. My mom and dad used to argue over me all the time. That's why he left. I make people leave. I'm-

       "Alexander, are you ok son?"

       " Please don't fight..." I whisper.

       "Oh, Alex! We're not fighting, we were just teasing each other, sweetie." Martha answers gently.

       "Oh...sorry." I reply.

       "Don't be sorry son, are you hungry?"

All of my embarrassment is erased at the mention of me eating. I didn't even realize how hungry I am.

        "Yes, I am si- George."

 

After dinner Lafayette dragged me up the stairs again.

       "Don't break him, Gilbert!" I hear Martha shout with a following giggle. 

      "What does Martha do?" I ask Laf.

     "She is a prosecutor for Liberty Law!" Laf says proudly.

     "And Papa is a Professor at Columbia University, he teaches political science!" He adds.

     "Very ambitious careers." I comment. He hums in agreement.

     "Hey Laf?" I ask.

     "Yes Alex?"

     "Why do you call Martha and George mom and dad?" I inquire.

     "Because, ils sont ma famille. I have been with them since I was very little. They took me in after my real maman and papa died. I don't really remember them though, so it doesn't make me too sad." He reveals.

  
      "I remember my mom," I whisper, " I remember how she used to braid my hair, and sing Spanish lullabies. Her face was never hard or angry, it was always soft and... tired. She was so tired in the end." I'm tired too, but I don't say that part aloud. Instead I find myself being embraced. I'm too tired to even resist or to stop the tears from falling.

     "Rest Alexander. I will tell you more about my friends tomorrow. It's the weekend so I will invite them over."

     I sigh as I tread heavily to my room.I flop onto my bed and close my eyes and let sleep consume me.

   I awake to the sound of pans clattering and boisterous laughter. What the hell? I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face and head downstairs. I was greeted by Lafayette and two other boys attempting to make crepes.

    "Ummm...." Is all I say.

    "Alex! You're awake! " Laf exclaims.

    Suddenly a pair of strong arms, embrace-no crush me.

    "So this is Alex!" The rough voice shouts.

    "I'm Hercules Mulligan, at your service." He says with a flourish after putting me down.

     I suddenly recognize him from the picture. He must be Herc.

     "Herc, you fucking traumatized him." The other boy snickers, revealing his face.

      His laugh was like velvet. Then I see his face. His tan skin was covered with freckles, his cheeks were dusted pink from laughing. His brown hair was pulled back into a curly messy ponytail. His eyes were a hazel and golden color, lined by dark lashes. I was floored by his beauty and my jaw was probably wide open.

    "Hey Alex, I'm John Laurens." He says with a gentle smile.

 

AN: Hey readers, don't forget to comment or leave kudos! I would love to have some feedback. Sorry for the horrible French, blame google translate! 

 


	5. Turtle boi 1.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crepe time and childhood embarrassments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in John’s perspective!

 "Hey, I'm John Laurens." I say sticking out a hand. Wow John, a handshake? Now he's gonna think you want to be business partners or some type of shit.

"My name is Alex- well you already know that, right? Ummm.." He continues to stutter until I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, it's ok Alex. How are you liking casa de Washington?" I ask.

Alex flushes deep red for a second before answering. "It's cool, I guess. They are really nice people, but like so nice until the point I'm scared. Or maybe I'm just used to assholes. Or maybe I'm an asshole? I don't know. Find out on the next episode of dragon ball Z."

Ok. He likes to talk. All I can do is laugh at his antics, though. He begins to laugh too. His laugh is not a pretty laugh. It's more of a cackle with snorts and coughing in between, but it's...colorful. It's unique, it's Alex.

"Is turtle boi being an idiot Alex?" I hear Herc tease.

I groan loudly "I told you not to call me that!" I shout.

"Why do you call him that?" I hear Alex ask. I groan even louder.

"John has some kind of obsession with turtles. In the 8th grade we had this assignment where we had to create a superhero. John's super hero was," Herc says, doubling over with laughter. He's laughing so hard he couldn't finish so of course Laf chimes in.

"The name of the superhero was Turtle Boi 1.0! His costume was a green morph suit and a turtle shell! His super powers were advanced knowledge of marine biology and the ability to shape shift into any turtle!" Laf finishes, now laughing too. I just hang my head in shame and look up to glare at them. Then I hear Alexander's colorful laugh and can't help but smirk a bit. If he finds that story hilarious, he's going to fit in fine.

"So weren't you guys making crepes?" Alex says, gesturing towards the now smoking skillet.

"Fuck! The crepes are burning Laf!" I shout. Laf quickly ran over to the stove and turned the burners off.

"They are ruined." Laf says simply, while pouting. Alex made his way towards Laf to inspect the damage. Alex suddenly bursts into boisterous and colorful laughter for the third time this morning.

"What's so funny?" I ask, bewildered.

"You guys were making crepes so wrong!" Alex replies.

"Like you could do any better without a recipe!" I retort.

"Why the fuck would you not use a recipe?" Alex says, still laughing by the way.

"Well, it's an old childhood tradition. We just try to make food based on instinct and logic."

"Instinct and logic told you that there were no eggs and butter in crepes?"

"Well sorry that I'm not a master chef, mister yelp review!" I reply, crossing my arms. Alex just rolls his eyes and begins to scrape the inedible crepes into the trash.

"You guys just sit down and do whatever suburban kids do on the weekends, and I'll make some more crepes." Alex says.

"Alex, you don't have to do that," Laf says, "you are a part of this household, not some servant."

"I know that! Just let me cook, jeez!" Alex says, slightly irritated. I look at Laf and he sits down. I still don't completely trust Alex alone by himself in the kitchen. It's not like I think he's going to poison us or steal. He's just so small, and anxious. What if he accidentally sets himself on fire or something! I watch as he effortlessly mixes ingredients together as if it were his second nature.

"So I guess you're going to hover over me the whole time?" Alex says without looking up.

"I just wanted to see you work up close." I reply. Alex chuckles a bit. I watch him pour the batter thinly into the skillet.      

"How did you learn to make these so effortlessly?" I ask, in awe. Alex tenses up a bit.

  "When we had enough money to buy the ingredients, mom would make crepes for me and my brother. She eventually taught me." Alex says, rather sheepishly. My heart thumps a little harder at his expression. Then I realize I'm staring, as he flushes red and pushes a lock of hair behind his ear.    

  "Me and my mom did something similar," I say, trying to break the awkward silence, "she taught me how to braid!". I expect Alex to laugh or tease me for this, but when I look up, all I see is endearment on his face.    

  "That's so sweet John!" Alex says.    

   "Yeah, I guess." I murmur as my face heats up. I didn't want to mention that my mother was dying of cancer, and kill the mood. Alex notices my slight embarrassment and mood change and spins around momentarily to take the crepe out of the skillet, and folds it beautifully onto a plate.

He hands it to me and says, "This one is for you."

"It's greatly appreciated" I reply.

"It better be! I put all of my heart into it." He says looking directly at me, with an earnest smile. It makes my heart pang again. And if that isn't one of the most fucking terrifying, confusing, yet exhilarating feelings in the world. Why am I feeling like this?


End file.
